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The New Pope’s True Colors

The New Pope’s True Colors

May 14, 2025 | 1,334 words | Papal Politics, World Economics 

Having beaten the odds to be selected as the first Supreme Pontiff of the Catholic Church from the United States, the low-key, little-known Bob Prevost is now an object of the world’s attention, as we all wonder what he will do next as Pope Leo XIV.  

Some are encouraged by Prevost’s decades spent ministering in Peru, as a parish priest and then a bishop, along with his opening pronouncements after being tapped at the conclave.  The unmistakable first impression is that he will advocate on behalf of the world’s poor and downtrodden – and especially on behalf of immigrants – just as his immediate predecessor, the Argentinian-born Francis, did.

Others are heartened by how much more reserved our new Pope seems to be compared to Francis, is not as “charismatic” as some have put it, and will therefore be less inclined to rock the boat or stir the pot.

Traditionalists may be smitten by the new man’s choice of a name, since the previous Leo’s time in the big chair (1878-1903) came well before the Second Vatican Council (1962-1965), when they think their church took a dire turn for the worst.  To such believers, anything pre-conciliar is ipso-facto good, while everything post-conciliar is questionable at best.

Then there are the savvy conservatives who were not taken in by the newly elevated pontiff’s measured tone, even for a moment.  They have quickly identified the hey-I-just-got-here Leo XIV as another social justice softie in the vein of Francis, predicting he will be “just another Marxist” in the Vatican.

Of all the hot button cultural issues of the last 60 years that have divided faithful Catholics into bitterly opposed partisan camps, one might say it is the idea of ‘social justice’ that lies at the heart of all the disputes.   And for me what lies at the heart of social justice is economic justice.

This connection was brought home a few years ago by a piece Christopher Manion had published in The Wanderer newspaper.  Mr. Manion was holding forth in a familiar way on how too many Catholics have strayed from the straight and narrow in one well-known form or another.  

In a novel twist, Manion suggested this laxness on the part of the faithful had actually been encouraged over the years by the legislative agenda of the Democratic Party, under the guise of ‘social justice.’  He traced what he saw as this nebulous, hard-to-define concept back to the 1930s and the 12-year reign of FDR, as many before him have done.

But then Christopher Manion pulled a rabbit out of his hat, and informed his readers the root cause of what he considers our contemporary dithering over social issues – at the expense of unencumbered orthodox belief and practice – actually started with Pope Leo XIII, who first introduced the concept of social justice into the lexicon in 1891, with an encyclical entitled Rerum Novarum.

That Latin translates as “On New Things,” or “On Revolutionary Things.”  The document carries the subtitle “On the Rights and Duties of Capital and Labor.”

Mr. Manion is correct, of course, in citing the origin of the phrase.  And, of course, Rerum Novarum is a towering work on the subject of social justice, cast in the much larger framework of economic justice.  It is gratifying to hear and see this document being referenced so much again, now that Leo XIV is stepping into his new job.  Even better would be if anyone was taking the time to read it.  

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Dan Hitchens reminds us in The Last Modern Pope, recently published in the journal First Things, that the Catholic Church has been in an all-out war with the modern world since 1864, when Pius IX came out with his Syllabus of Errors.  That Pope condemned the notion that “The Roman Pontiff can, and ought to, reconcile himself, and come to terms with progress, liberalism, and modern civilization.”  I guess for Chrisotpher Manion writing in The Wanderer, Leo XIII made a regrettable concession in that war some 27 years later, in 1891.

But in discussing the importance of the new Pope’s choice of a name, Bishop Robert Barron offers a slightly different take: “When the revolutions in the 18th century happened, and the philosophical revolutions of the 19th century, the (Catholic) Church initially said ‘no’ to much of that.  Leo XIII represented a very nuanced, intelligent engagement with modernity – not caving into it, not saying yes completely, but not saying no – using the resources of our own traditions to engage modernity creatively.  That makes him (Leo XIII) a bridge figure.”

I love Barron’s perspective on this, because I think that’s what every single Pope since Leo XIII has been trying to do.  

One alternative interpretation of the topsy-turvy, back-and-forth Francis years that The Last Modern Pope captures so well in its opening mash-up might go something like this:  

Francis spent his pontificate trying to engage modernity creatively as did his predecessors of the last 150 years.  His formal writings reflect a careful, nuanced approach.  But all that nuance hadn’t gotten through.  Especially when the subject is economic justice.  And especially when the audience are conservatives who refuse to admit free-market capitalism has some rough edges.

In 1961 William Buckley issued a very public rebuke of Pope John XXIII on this score.  Since then, the preferred tactic of Buckley’s acolytes has been to politely reframe what both John Paul II and Benedict XIV wrote on economic matters, to assure one and all that Catholicism is four-square behind the grand American Experiment in “economic freedom.”

Which brings us to Francis, who appears to have made a conscious decision to “amp up” the rhetoric.  I would suggest he may have done this at least in part out of frustration, since nobody had taken the admonitions of his predecessors to heart, specifically as they pertain to economics. 

An example would be his 2015 address in Bolivia.  In a case of exaggeration for the purpose of illustration, Francis declared unfettered capitalism to be the dung of the devil.  We are told he was quoting his favorite Bishop from the 4th century, who at that time had directed his ire more broadly at the pursuit of money, since capitalism was still a millennium away from being invented.

That remark, and many others like it, were taken as unwarranted provocations by Catholics in the United States who follow the Gospel according to The Wall Street Journal, and who are convinced the vexing problem of greed has been solved for all mankind, since it was successfully re-purposed as ‘enlightened self-interest’ by Adam Smith in 1776.

Francis did indeed have a tendency to present himself as the “scourge and critic” of conservative Catholics, as Ross Douthat described him just the other day.  The man had good reason to do so, in my opinion, but a case could be made that perhaps he enjoyed the role of provocateur a little too much at times.  And he did occasionally overshoot the mark.  Like Mr. Douthat, I too thought the sort of last-minute attempt to cancel the Latin Mass amounted to a thoroughly unnecessary – and almost petty – gesture.  

But I guess I gave Francis a wide berth on most everything else, because deep down I was convinced – even with all the unexpected twists and turns – his ultimate objective was worthy:  an earnest, faithful attempt to carry Catholic principles forward and apply them to the modern world, just as his predecessors had tried to do.

Here’s hoping the new Pope will walk through the door the last Pope managed to pry open.  Maybe the First World needed someone ‘noisy’ like Francis to get its collective attention.  And maybe now Leo XIV can follow up with a quieter, more disciplined manner that will yield better results in getting through to conservatives regarding economics.  This is what all Catholic pontiffs have been trying to do since 1891 – get through to the conservative contingent when it comes to their economic behavior.

Robert J. Cavanaugh, Jr.

www.robertjcavanaughjr.com

bobcavjr@gmail.com

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Donald “Lonesome Rhoades” Trump

Donald “Lonesome Rhoades” Trump

April 9, 2025 | 802 words | Politics, Vintage Movies

Last month Donald Trump was seen reprimanding the President of Ukraine in a televised sit-own at The White House that was positively cringe-worthy to watch.  He berated the beleaguered foreign leader with remarks such as “you have no cards” and “you should have taken the deal,” as if talking to a recalcitrant child.

This month President Trump is busy trying to re-engineer world trade by way of “shock and awe,” without consulting any of our trading partners.

Say what you will about his second presidential incarnation, but there is certainly no grass growing under Mr. Trump’s feet.

It has been a roller-coaster first three months, providing plentiful grist for the mill of many an esteemed political and social commentator. Amateur and professional observers alike are struggling to understand how things got to this point, how such an individual could have gotten elected not once, but twice, to the highest office in the land.

Allow me to turn your attention to an old movie from the 1950s about the meteoric rise of a crude populist through the power of first radio and then television, and suggest how it might offer up a little window into the bizarre Trump phenomenon we are living through right now.

My local independently-owned film emporium recently featured a showing of A Face in the Crowd, the award-winning 1957 movie written by Budd Schulberg, directed by Elia Kazan, and starring Patricia Neal, Andy Griffith, Walter Matthau, and Tony Franciosa.

At first glance the disheveled two-bit drifter by the name of Larry Rhoads we meet in a backwater jail cell bears no resemblance to the handsome young on-the-rise real estate mogul Donald Trump who first burst onto the society pages in the 1980s.

The movie’s small Southern town boasts a little radio station, and that station has a cub reporter whose job is to uncover local color.  She discovers a drunk Larry Rhoads sleeping it off in a jail cell, shoves a microphone in his face and gives him a chance to sing a song, and maybe spout off a little.  Our down-on-his-luck protagonist comes to life and we are introduced to a natural born story teller full of folk wisdom that goes down easy with the listening audience.

Patricia Neal’s cub reporter christens Andy Griffiths’ character “Lonesome Rhoads,” and the branding begins.  He is a ratings star, and it’s not long before an advertiser wants to move the radio program to a larger market (nearby Memphis) and sponsor Mr. Rhoads folksy diatribes.

Lonesome has an uncanny ability to read any room and knows where his bread is buttered.  His relationships are all strictly transactional, as we say today.  When a hot shot young ad man (Tony Franciosa) offers to bring the Lonesome Rhoads act to New York City and to television, our small-town hero is able to adapt, and he soon extends his appeal to a national audience.

Before long captains of industry are seeking his sage advice on how to appeal to the common man and increase their market share in the process.  A veteran politician who eyes a presidential run is introduced to Mr. Rhoads by a wealthy doner, and Lonesome schools this man on how elections are now going to be won or lost on television, and how he – the veteran politician – needs to loosen up and let his hair down, so as to broaden his appeal among the common folk.

Mind you this script was written a few years before the infamous Nixon-Kenndey televised debates, where Nixon went on to lose a close race after coming off as uptight and extremely uncomfortable in front of the camera.

The script is prescient on a number of fronts, not least of which is how unreliable and unstable our political life has become in an age when public opinion is so easily manipulated.

In the movie, the hero we initially root for as he rises through the ranks through endearing blend of charm, native intelligence, and force of will eventually falls from grace and loses his mass appeal.  And he loses our sympathy, too, as the story reveals him to be someone with no moral core, who doesn’t believe in anything beyond ratings.  

Lonesome Rhoads is eventually overwhelmed by fame and it corrupts him.  He turns into a megalomanic and becomes cynical.  He takes the little people who gave him his popularity for granted.  Once that cynicism is exposed, his time at the top is over.  

The movie ends in the middle of the night, with our hero screaming his slogans from a balcony to an empty room below, with an applause machine going off on cue.  The proto-typical echo chamber.  It remains to be seen how the Donald Trump story will end, but the vintage film A Face in the Crowd may have pointed the way.

Robert J. Cavanaugh, Jr.

www.robertjcavanaughjr.com

bobcavjr@gmail.com

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On Electoral Mandates

On Electoral Mandates

Jan 6, 2025 | 597 words | Politics 

80-year-old James Carville is a veteran Democrat political operative from Louisiana who just published a little post-mortem on this past November’s tumultuous presidential election, in which he offers some tips on how his party can win back those all-important swing voters who recently strayed.

It is all good practical advice, but towards the end he indulges in what strikes me as a demonization of the opposition.  He wants to see Democrats regain legislative power, because Republicans are a scourge upon the nation.

52-year-old Mike Johnson is a Republican congressman from Louisiana who just narrowly retained his position as Speaker of the House.  After the close vote, during which two or three radical right-wing congressional hold-outs decided to support him at the last possible moment, Mr. Johnson spoke of getting on with the people’s business.  He wants to implement President Trump’s America First agenda, replacing what he described as the outgoing administration’s America Last policies.  The quote I heard went something like, “Those policies were a failure, and they need to be buried.”

I get that our two major political parties see things differently and have different priorities when it comes to legislation and tending to the common good.  But why does the language we use to discuss these differences have to be so adversarial so much of the time?

This unwarranted combativeness expresses itself every time an election winner describes their triumph as a mandate, which is then put forth as a repudiation of everything the outgoing office-holder stood for. 

But that is hardly ever the case.  Landslide elections are few and far between these days.  More often than not, things are split pretty much right down the middle.

This past November Donald Trump received 77,303,573 votes to Kamala Harris’ 75,019,257 votes.  That translates into 49.9% of the vote for Trump, and 48.4% of the vote for Harris.

Here in Pennsylvania the Senate race was even tighter.  Good guy three-term Democrat Senator Bob Casey, Jr. garnered 48.6% of the votes cast, while the Republican challenger Dave McCormick topped him with 48.8% of the vote.

With a race that close, it feels as if just enough people wanted to turn the page on the perfectly acceptable politician they were used to for the last 18 years, and give a new individual a shot behind the wheel.  It almost boils down to a whim, which is why I am not quite as enamored of democracy and the “democratic process” as I am supposed to be.

The first rule of marketing is to differentiate what you are selling from what a competitor is also trying to sell.  The objective is to tout the benefits and advantages of your product, without necessarily dragging your competitor’s product through the mud.  In fact, it’s best if you can make a case for your product without mentioning the competition at all.

But human nature being what it is, politicians and their handlers and consultants often resort to broad caricatures of an opponent’s policy proscriptions.  This is known as “going negative” in the trade, and it can be very effective in firing up the electorate and increasing voter turnout.  It amounts to a cynical variation on the tried-and-true rule of broadcast journalism – if it bleeds, it leads.   And so it goes, on and on.

I am convinced James Carville and Mike Johnson (and Donald Trump and Kamala Harris) both have the best interests of the country at heart.  If only they could exert some added discipline when articulating their positions, so as to avoid painting the other side as being sent here from Hell.

Robert J. Cavanaugh, Jr.

www.robertjcavanaughjr.com

bobcavjr@gmail.com

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Doctrinal vs. Pastoral

Doctrinal vs. Pastoral

Dec 24, 2024 | 784 words | Religious Politics 

If you style yourself a secularist who shuns organized religion, you may not have a rooting interest in the great debate that rages within sectarian circles: whether it is better to be doctrinally pure, or pastorally sensitive.  From what I can gather this is an active source of tension in most every faith tradition.

It boils down to that age-old choice management types and administrators have had to make in trying to maintain order up and down the ranks – stick to the letter of the law and let the chips fall where they may, or step back occasionally to suss out what might be called the spirit of the law, in an attempt to ameliorate certain controversial situations in a somewhat less severe manner.

The wisest men and women among us, some of whom we have come to identify as saints or mystics, find a way to do both simultaneously.  Or come as close as possible to doing both, given the constraints of our intrinsically flawed human nature.

(King Solomon in the Old Testament being one historical example of wisdom-in-action that springs to mind.)

In the Catholic tradition, which is the one I have signed onto, we have come to set up this doctrinal/pastoral dichotomy up as a stark contrast between “teaching the faith” and “preaching the Gospel,” and we indulge in a parlor game of grading our Popes on this adversarial curve.  

But how can you teach the faith if you are not also preaching the Gospel?  And how can you preach the Gospel without teaching the faith?

The late Pope Benedict is viewed as an exemplary teacher of the faith by those who admire what they take to be his doctrinal integrity, while being found somewhat lacking in pastoral skills by others who say they appreciate a more nuanced approach.

Pope Francis, who at first glance gives the impression of specializing in being pastoral, drives those who held Benedict in high esteem up a wall.  Commentators I respect have gone on record as saying “Francis will be judged by history as having failed to teach the faith,” an assessment I find to be utterly preposterous.

There are many ways to be authentically Catholic, just as I imagine there are probably many ways to practice any faith tradition.  As a Christian, I follow a God-made-man of many moods and colors, who chased the money lenders from the Temple in what comes across as a fit of pique, but who also unfurled the gentle Beatitudes to an attentive crowd gathered on a grassy hillside.

His admirers see Benedict as ardently chasing the money-lenders, while fans of Francis see him as promulgating the Beatitudes.  Is one Pope more-or-less Catholic than the other? Many Catholics today seem to think so.

I loved Benedict, thought he was plenty pastoral in what he wrote, and felt he got a bad rap as a hard-ass and a doctrinal Nazi.

I love Francis, think he is doctrinally sound in what he writes, and feel he has been written off as a “loose cannon” by different people for different reasons.  Some don’t appreciate his non-stop reference to Third World realities, and see in those references an unapologetic critique of our comfortable First World sensibilities.

Others consider themselves strict originalists who believe the Ten Commandments and all other Church teaching need only be applied in a consistent manner, with no interpretation required.  This belies the fact this teaching has been undergoing unrestrained development for over two thousand years.

Some see the great threat of the present moment as one of acquiescence, with Francis guilty of the unforgivable sin of fudging unalterable doctrine to suit the times.  Such a concept is anathema to “trad” Catholics (and to me, too, by the way), and they deplore a wishy-washy implementation of Church teaching.

But I see the present moment as part of a larger, much richer and more diverse tapestry.  For me the big picture comes into focus when we acknowledge our human nature as intrinsically flawed, which means our understanding of what Christ was trying to tell us in the first place, two thousand years ago, is always going to require continual refinement.

I wish we could all get past what strikes me as a false dichotomy of either fearfully clinging to tradition or bravely embracing progress.  We don’t automatically know better than our religious ancestors and therefore should not be too be quick to change course, just because we are here now and boast the best of intentions.  

But let’s also realize those ancestors didn’t necessarily get everything right, either, even though they may have been trying their darndest to do so, and no doubt believed the angels were on their side.

Robert J. Cavanaugh, Jr.

www.robertjcavanaughjr.com

bobcavjr@gmail.com

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Understanding the Infidels

Understanding the Infidels

Nov 14, 2024  |  804 words  |  Politics, Religion 

When no one from my side of the church took communion at our nuptial mass a few weeks ago it was a stark reminder that Mother Church has lost her hold on the hearts and minds of a generation. Or maybe two.

The priest sex abuse scandal is often cited as a root cause, but that just constitutes the last nail in the coffin, if you ask me.  I see the rejection of religion as an unintended consequence of the upward mobility so many of us have enjoyed over the last half century or so.  

Material prosperity has emboldened us to ‘stand on our own two feet’ intellectually speaking, and distance ourselves from the belief system that sustained our parents and grandparents.  As we have found and fallen in love with the good life we have ceased to dream of eternity, as someone once wrote.

Visiting Rome for the first time this week has given me a new perspective on how this wholesale defection began, about 500 years ago.  I mean, I always knew there was lots of medieval plotting and palace intrigue, lots of jockeying for power and political corruption in the Catholic Church’s hierarchy.  

But reading about it and coming face-to-face with the physical manifestations in the form of so many ornate cathedrals and impressive works of art paid for by powerful banking families who were “Catholic-in-name-only,” and commissioned by Popes with mistresses and illegitimate children, with the sordid details of all the scheming and power-grabs spelled out by tour guides steeped in this history, is a different thing entirely.

My first reaction has been a new-found empathy for none other than Martin Luther (1483-1546), an historical  figure I had previously dismissed as a well-intentioned reformer who got carried away and threw the baby out with the bath water.  

I did some quick research from my hotel room and learned a little more about this rebel who upset the apple cart of Catholicism.  Luther was an Augustinian friar who had been dispatched to Rome in 1510 to settle a dispute involving the Augustinian order in Germany.  He not only saw the Holy City as the pinnacle of his spiritual aspirations, but was hoping the trip would shore up what had been his failing spirituality.  

While in Rome he made a point to visit every relic he could find, in the hope of availing himself of every ounce of grace that homage to such an object might offer.  But these supposedly sacred sites were at odds with the corruption surrounding them.  He saw firsthand how the Church had thoroughly monetized the grace of God.  

Confronted with so much vice and debauchery, so much blatant disregard for foundational Christian teaching, the man was possessed of enough devotional integrity to ask himself: “Holy cow, is everybody in this town on the take?”

Luther’s much anticipated 1510 trip to Rome ended in disillusionment and confusion, resulting in the 1517 publication of his Ninety-Five Theses we are all familiar with.  After only a few days here myself I now see him in a completely different light, and think of him as having given this attempt at a major overhaul his best shot.  I admire him for his effort.  

In the same way, I don’t blame my side of the church for not taking communion at our nuptial mass, and understand that doing so would have been intellectually dishonest for many of them.  I also, by the way, do not consider any of the abstainers to be ‘infidels’ in any sense of the term.  In fact, the concept of ‘infidel’ does not have any purchase in my understanding of human nature.

That this word appears in my title is meant as a gentle tweak of those who think it does have currency, who think of their preferred belief system as providing them with a lock on the truth.  (And by the way, this charge of intellectual smugness extends to all my atheist friends as well, who seem to think of their skepticism as the ultimate trump card.)

It’s good to be certain of something, but in my experience real hardcore certainty is hard to come by.  There are so many layers to the truth, so much nuance to discover in every story.  

I think it boils down to our all being on a lifelong journey to try and understand ourselves, and understand this world we have found ourselves in.  If that journey involves forsaking religion for ‘reason,’ or adhering to a religious tradition other than the one I have chosen to embrace, I am not inclined to condemn you. 

Quite the opposite.  By virtue of the way I was raised and educated, I am predisposed to see the dignity, or what some call the Imago Dei, in every person I encounter, or even read about in the news.

Robert J. Cavanaugh, Jr.

www.robertjcavanaughjr.com

bobcavjr@gmail.com

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Approaching Politics with Love

Approaching Politics with Love

Nov 6, 2024  |  617 words  |  Politics   

Death and taxes are two of life’s inevitables that we typically face only reluctantly, and usually with a sense of dread and loathing.  But I’m not scared of dying, as a young Lauro Nyro once sang, and the older I get the more receptive I have become to the idea of rendering unto Caeser that which is Caeser’s, as another young person of some renown once instructed.

It is finding and electing a Caeser with the wisdom and savvy it takes to dispense these ‘tributes’ in a judicious manner that is easier said than done.

Before launching into yet another partisan diatribe about the election results, I am chastened by the simple fact half the country voted for a different candidate than I did, and the unavoidable realization there are people of goodwill on both sides.

Though I confess to having difficulty seeing the appeal of Donald Trump, who is more of a crass entertainer than even a moderately competent politician.  I am part of the chorus of Trump detractors who see him as an incessant jackhammer outside your bedroom window at 6:30 in the morning, which is how the columnist Bret Stephens recently described him.  Mr. Trump doesn’t know much about reaching across the aisle to build a consensus, but boy does he know how to build his brand.  In the process he has managed to secure enough electoral votes to retake the White House, so here we go again.

In hindsight it is obvious Joe Biden should have admitted his cognitive decline much sooner than he did, which would have allowed Democrats to find a battle-tested standard-bearer through the rough-and-tumble of a messy primary season.  Kamala Harris did the best she could with the short ramp she was given to work with, in terms of establishing an identity and staking out policy positions.  She breathed new life into the ticket and managed to score high marks for likeability.  That, apparently, was not quite enough to become the first female President of the United States.

Not that I know anything about picking a winner, mind you.  I wanted to see Elizabeth Warren as President in 2016 but would have settled for Bernie Sanders.  This time around it is none other than that raucous upstart J.D. Vance who qualifies as a person of interest.  I only just tuned into his story with the long June 8 print interview he gave to his old friend, the op-ed writer Ross Douthat.  Prevailing wisdom holds Vance to be the epitome of a political opportunist, ready to say or do anything to advance his standing.  He strikes me as just the opposite, as an unusually principled operator.

I see Mr. Vance as a neophyte still trying to figure out how to translate his admirable instincts for wanting to balance the economic scales into coherent policy initiatives.  Some of his gaffes on the campaign trail since being selected as Trump’s running mate are indefensible.  But some can be chalked up to his being a political novice still trying to get his sea legs as a national candidate.  

I can’t help but respect Vance’s willingness to go into enemy territory and be interrogated by hostile media outlets.  In these exchanges it is immediately apparent he has actual thoughts and ideas, and can do more than talk in pre-packaged, consultant-approved sound bites and bullet points.

Which is exactly how I feel about people like Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and Pete Buttigieg.   These are young pols with a good head on their shoulders and something important to contribute.  We should be encouraging  them in the development of their problem-solving and governing chops, instead of trying to smite them in their political infancy with adversarial taunting and baiting.

Robert J. Cavanaugh, Jr.

www.robertjcavanaughjr.com

bobcavjr@gmail.com

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